


A Talk That's Not Really A Talk

by timeblitz



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: :V, Crime Fighting, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hiding Injury, Injury, Kinda, Light Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, basically peter hides an injury so he wont seem weak, but take what you will, idk this whole fic was written while pulling an all nighter and dying, injured peter, okay im done lol, sorta - Freeform, thats how i see em anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 16:16:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11740632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeblitz/pseuds/timeblitz
Summary: The last thing Peter wants to do is disappoint his hero. Even if it means ignoring his own limits.





	A Talk That's Not Really A Talk

“You holding up okay kid?” Tony’s voice came in through Peter’s intercom just a tad too loud. For whatever reason, Stark had called him up about an hour ago, requesting (well, more so asking but Peter would never say no, especially after all the other had done for him) that he join him for patrol that night. One thing led to another and now they were fighting off a small gang armed with supercharged weapons. Said weapons weren’t nearly as powerful as the ones Adrian had been creating up until about a month ago, but they were still an issue that would probably be better dealt with now then later.

 

“Just peachy.” He grunted, kicking what was basically an overcharged taser out of the baddie’s hands. His enemy didn’t seem to care much, he simply shrugged and smashed his fist against Spidey’s masked jaw with a crack. “Oof!” He rolled with the hit, cringing at the sharp pain in his side as he hopped to his feet.

 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that. I’m sure your grandma could hit harder!” Spiderman taunted, dodging with a bit more ease now that he knew what to expect. Mr. Gangster didn’t seem too happy about that comment, and apparently his friend wasn’t the biggest fan either. A surprise blow from behind sent Peter reeling forward, only to be smacked down to the floor by the first guy.

 

That wouldn’t be much of a problem if the two hadn’t decided to be total assholes and kick him while he was down. The first few hits were fine, he could easily shrug it off. But then a steel toe boot met with his injured side and suddenly black dots were swimming in his vision and it took a moment for him to realise that that bloodcurdling screech was coming from him.

 

It only took seventeen seconds. Six seconds to throw the first guy across the room. Four seconds to punch the second in the face with enough force to shatter his nose. And then seven seconds for Tony to pick up Peter and blast a hole through the roof of the, oh so cliche, warehouse and hightail it the fuck out of there.

 

In the next twentysix seconds, Peter had mostly cleared his fuzzy head and was now struggling against Iron Man's metal arms and ridiculously strong grip. “Hey! Why’d you go and run away? We had them!”

 

“Stay still.” Was all Iron Man had to say to that. Peter settled down into an uncomfortable silence, quickly realising this was not up for debate. Maybe that was okay because right now his side felt like someone was pouring lava into it. Not to mention his head was still a bit woozy and the rushing air as they shot across the sky wasn’t helping much. In any case, it really didn’t matter much because with the speed Tony had decided on the ride didn’t take long to reach it’s destination.

 

The two reached the compound in record time. Tony unceremoniously dumped Peter on the couch, his suit retracting as he crouched down in front of him. Peter bit back a small yelp at being thrown down like that, unsure how to face his mentor’s apparent anger. The sharp pain in his side had went back down to a dull throb though, so that was pretty nice.

 

“So… You gonna tell me what this is all about?” He eventually said, his voice a nervous squeak. He cleared his throat, trying again. “Because if it’s about that bio test, I swear it wasn’t my intention to show up half dead on my feet. I just didn’t sleep too well and it kinda affected my work but I can definitely make it up.”

 

“This isn’t about a bad test.” Tony cut him off, his voice sharp. “I know you’re a smart kid. Now take off your suit.”

 

“Excuse me!?” Peter spat out, eyes blown wide. “I really don’t think-”

 

“You’re bleeding.” Tony gestured to the growing dark red spot on his side. “Let me take a look at it.”

 

“Oh. That’s not necessary.” Peter muttered, shaking his head. “Really, it’ll-” A single look was all it took. “Yeah, yup. I’m taking it off.” He struggled to peel the form fitting material off, his hands fumbling a bit as he finally tugged it off over his head with a hiss. He averted his gaze, staring off at the far wall as he was suddenly overcome with a wave of guilt.

 

“Now tell me Peter,” Tony started, his face just as unreadable as before. “How on earth did you manage to get this nasty looking stab wound when not a single one of those lowlifes had a knife? They had guns, tasers, sparking brass knuckles, but not one had a knife as far as I know. And believe me, I do know.”

 

Peter stiffened almost immediately. Okay, so maybe he had been in a fight the night prior. And maybe he had been stabbed when he let his guard down. And maybe he had dragged himself back home to lick his wounds. Any maybe the cut was a bit too deep for his healing factor to take care of it in a few hours.

 

But he had had it under control! If control meant he had wrapped it up and gone to bed without telling a soul that is. It wasn’t like he could have gotten help anyways. He had a high distrust of hospitals, who knows what they might do if they decided to draw his genetically altered blood? And there was no way he could go to May, she was already struggling to come to terms with the whole Spiderman thing. If she saw him all beat up like that she’d totally freak out and try to put an end to his heroics.  

 

And, and… Once again it took him a moment to realise he had been speaking out loud. “You could have come to me.” Tony’s voice was quiet, and if Peter wasn’t mistaken a tad strained too. “I’m here to help you, you know that right?”

 

“Well, y-yeah but-”

 

“But what?” He didn’t even sound angry anymore, just tired. That’s what was making Peter the most uneasy. “I know I haven’t been doing the best job with you. I haven’t been paying nearly enough attention to what you’ve been up to. So maybe this is my fault then?” He nodded his head, muttering that last bit more to himself than Peter and getting up to his feet. “You stay there, I’m going to get something to patch you up with. Run away and there will be consequences.” His threat sounded pretty empty but Peter figured it’d be best to not to test him. Something kept him in his place, sitting uncomfortably in his boxers while the blood dried in an itchy mess on his skin.

 

The seat dipped as Tony returned and sat down next to Peter. He had a washcloth with him and began carefully dabbing around the reopened wound. His brow was furrowed in concentration but his mind seemed to be miles away. Still, he muttered a gruff apology when he sprayed the antibiotic on the injury and then again as he tightly wound bandages around the young hero’s midsection.

 

Once Peter was patched up somewhat decently, Tony tossed the leftover supplies onto the coffee table and leaned into the back of the couch, an exasperated sigh on his lips. That uncomfortable silence persisted, and Peter very much wished the television or even radio was on for some sort of distraction. He reflected on what Tony had said before, a particular phrase coming back to his attention. _‘So maybe this is my fault then?’_

 

And that just didn’t sit right with him. Why on earth would Tony be at fault? He wasn’t the one with the knife. He wasn’t the one who had let his guard down. No, this was all on Peter. “Thanks,” He eventually decided on. “For all this.” He gestured to himself, giving a small tug on the bandages. “I know I should have said something but…”

 

Tony tilted his head to the side with a raised brow and Peter gave a sigh. “I actually considered calling Happy, but then I didn’t.” He gave a small laugh. “Guess I just didn’t want to let you down, that’s all.”

 

“Let me down? Kid, how the hell would you be letting me down?” Tony ran a hand through his hair and tossed his head back. “Everyone needs help every now and again, and you’re no exception. As much as you refuse to admit it, you’re still just a kid. I can’t have you dying on me when I could have helped. I just… Call me next time, okay? I know it won’t do much good trying to stop you but if you’re gonna be getting yourself stabbed just-” He shook his head, getting back up to his feet. “Don’t be hiding stuff like this. That’s how you get yourself killed.”

 

“Go find clothes or something.” He snagged up the Spider suit, crossing the room in a few strides. “Then meet me down in the lab. We’re gonna upgrade your suit some, stitch up this tear, and then I’m gonna reinstall your tracker. Not because I don’t trust you or anything, but so that I can help out a bit more if you need it.”

 

Peter stared after him for a few moments. “Uh, yeah. Sounds great.” That definitely could have gone worse. Chances are that wouldn’t be the end of it, but a little tough love would probably be good for Peter. For both of them really.


End file.
